A contractor’s fashion sense

Thursday

May 24, 2007 at 12:01 AMMay 24, 2007 at 10:55 PM

My teenage daughter is questioning my approaching middle-aged sense of fashion – who knew? As a contractor I will admit, fashion is not my strong point. A good pair of jeans and clean T-shirt, and I am as happy as a pig in slop. But apparently that is not enough for my budding fashionista advisor, the teen queen.

Scott Vandewalle/For the Home

Your average contractor — carpentry, electrical or otherwise — has a poor reputation for dressing … well. how can I say this delicately, like a hairy farm animal run down by a lawn mower. To the average folks on the street, one cannot be a contractor unless you are wearing torn sneakers, sweatpants stained in indefinable hues, a T-shirt saluting some form of immoral activity and a John Deere cap with tobacco stains. Maybe this is what the teen queen is referring to?

We all know these guys; I call them “Bubbas.” You’ve seen Bubba driving down the street with the pickup truck with a large wooden board as the latest in front bumper fashion and the little kid peeing on (pick your least favorite car manufacturer and insert here) sticker. As he pulls to a stop on top of the curb outside the neighbor’s house, one last gentle waft of unfiltered exhaust rises from the remains of the muffler.

With a flick of his cigarette to the lawn and a toss of the Dunkin Donuts cup into the pickup truck bed, he has arrived. The question you have to ask yourself, as you capture a full glimpse of his sartorial presence and quickly make your first impression is, “do you want him working in your home alone today?”

Now that’s a conundrum.

Believe it or not, I am a contractor and am proud of how I dress. Despite what the teen queen might have you believe, I am shooting for something a little higher on the food chain than Bubba. My work boots are solid, although they are probably due for replacement, and my jeans are mostly blue and the zipper still shuts fully. The T-shirt is clean and has our company logo on it and nothing else; you cannot tell by looking at me what my favorite band is.

The Homeworx cap is presentable and matches my outfit; the closest I’ll get to John Deere is my underused weed whacker. What’s left of my hair is combed neatly (Hah! As if a comb will move those minor wisps of matter about in a noticeable way). I’m clean, I’m neat and I’m proud! (P.S. I apologize to the Marines for mangling that line.)

Still, this is not enough for her, the queen. She stalks with a sullen nod or an eye squinting stare. This is often followed by the comment, “I can help you with that.” Help me with what? If it’s good enough for Bob Vila, it’s good enough for me. I haven’t noticed anyone crossing to the other side of the street when I walk down the sidewalk. Heck, I don’t even have a gun rack in my truck – I am not a Bubba!

“Nice try, Dad,” says the fashionista, “but you still don’t get it; you need help.”

This is the part where I have to be careful, very careful. Despite that fact, that as a teenager, she already knows everything, I still have to remember that I am a role model. At this point I am looking through my brain for a reference point from my teenage years that I can relate to her with. This is my mistake.

Memories of long hair back when I still had hair don’t ease my mind. Nor does the image of red parachute pants that I thought were too cool. Maybe it’s the visage of the punk rock phase I went through with the dog collar and black T-shirts that makes me cringe. This isn’t helping. Hey, how about that belt buckle I got out west . . . yeah, the really big one with a skull and horns and … hmmm, time to shut up. Maybe she has a point. Yeah, I have always needed help.

For now I dress as the contractor I want you to see, my jeans are clean, and my T-shirt isn’t offensive and I am not sure that help is needed here. As for everything else, I may submit to fair advice from someone who pays more attention to these things than I do. As long as she doesn’t suggest a shirt where my belly shows – ugh.

Scott Vandewalle is the owner of Homeworx Co. in Danvers and a member of the Zoning Board of Appeals who is contributing columns for our readers. For more information, see him online at www.homeworx.com.